A Matter of Priorities
by Teresa2
Summary: When Dan Williams falls in love, can he keep his priorities straight.


A Matter of Priorities

**A Matter of Priorities**

By

Teresa

***

Danny lounged back in his chair and sipped his beer, enjoying its refreshing coldness. Stretching out his legs in front of him, he sighed contentedly. He liked nothing better, after a hard game of tennis, than to sit here on the terrace at the Makaha Inn with a cold drink, indulging in some casual conversation with his friends.

He contemplated the couple who were sitting at the table with him. John Lawrence was six feet four inches tall, with chest muscles straining at the fabric of his tennis shirt, and arms and legs bulging with strength. He could have been mistaken for professional football player, rather than a sergeant with the Honolulu police department. With piercing blue eyes accentuated by a golden tan, this startlingly handsome man was every woman's pin-up.

His wife was a complete contrast. Allison was slightly more than five feet tall, and appeared as fragile as a porcelain doll. She was as dark as her husband was fair, with silky, jet-black hair and almond shaped ebony eyes, which hinted at a trace Japanese blood in her lineage.

The pair were as different in temperament as they were in appearance. Allison was vivacious and energetic. A born organiser, she was the chairwoman of several committees and charities, and was constantly in a hurry. John, on the other hand, was placid and easygoing and quite content to be bossed and organised by his wife.

Danny had known the pair since the tenth grade. As teenagers, they had been inseparable. At Roosevelt High School, the in' group had consisted of John and Allison, Lew Morgan and Marjorie Wallis, and Danny and whoever he happened to be dating at the time. As soon as they finished high school, John had married Allison, and Lew had married Marjorie. Fifteen years later, Danny was still unattached, a situation which Allison was determined to remedy.

Danny was very fond of Allison, in spite of her persistent attempts to fix him up' with her unattached girl friends, and he found it difficult to refuse her anything. This morning, she had persuaded him to join John and herself, and yet another of her single friends, for a doubles match.

The game was strongly contested by only three members of the party. Danny's partner, an attractive red-head named Barbara, concentrated more on making him aware of her considerable physical assets, than on her tennis game. Naturally, they lost the match. Her interest in him was so obvious that Danny was almost relieved that she had had to leave as soon as the game was finished. Before she departed, Barbara made sure that he had a slip of paper with her phone number written on it, tucked safely in his pocket.

It was Danny's first day off in months, and he was savoring every moment of it. He sat in silence, basking in the warm sun, and only half listening as Allison chattered excitedly about her latest project, an auction to raise funds for Hawaii Junior Blind', one of the charities which she supported.

His gaze drifted lazily out across the lawns, to the tennis courts, where white clad figures defied the heat to run around, hitting a small ball back and forth. He watched for a moment, then his eyes wandered on, to the ocean beyond, sparkling in the brilliant sunlight, and back to the terrace.

Several groups of people were sitting at tables, or standing around the bar. Most of them were dressed in tennis clothes, either relaxing after their games or waiting for a court to become available. Nearly all of them were familiar to Danny. His eyes skimmed over them.

His attention was drawn to a small group standing near the bar. In the middle of the party was a girl Danny had never seen before. It took only a fraction of a second for his keen eye to take in every detail of her appearance.

He guessed that she was almost as tall as he was. She was wearing a mouth-wateringly short white tennis dress, which revealed just enough of her shapely legs to tantalize, but not enough to be indecent. Danny noted, with approval, that her tan appeared to have been acquired naturally, rather than from a sun lamp. 

She had just finished a game, and there was a faint sheen of perspiration on her forehead. Tendrils of silky dark hair had escaped from the pink ribbon at the nape of her neck, and fluttered rebelliously in the breeze.

Danny was unable to determine the color of her eyes, from where he sat, but he could see the dark smudge of her long lashes. He did not need a closer inspection to know that they would not be false ones.

The man beside her casually threw his arm around her shoulder, as he spoke. She turned to him with a dazzling smile as she replied to his comment. Danny recognized the man as Walter Gregson, the owner of a local construction company. He had never particularly liked Gregson, but now Danny felt a sudden antagonism towards him.

He just had to meet this woman.

Danny shifted slightly, in his chair. Leaning further back, he hooked the ankle of his right foot over his left knee, as he thrust his hands into the pockets of his tennis shorts.

"Allison." He drawled carelessly, as if the answer meant nothing to him at all. "You know most people in the islands. Who is that?" He nodded towards the dark haired girl.

Allison Lawrence arched her eyebrows slightly, and her eyes grew wide. "Why, Daniel!" she exclaimed, feigning surprise, "I thought you knew all the young, unattached females in Hawaii!"

Danny smirked and rolled his eyes at her. "Not yet!" he quipped, "But I'm working on it!"

"Come on, Allie," he coaxed, " Who is she?" 

"Forget it Danny!" Allison warned. "She's waaay out of **your** league!"

Danny raised an inquiring eyebrow.

"In a word, money," Allison replied to his unspoken question.

Allison loved gossip, and normally would have been eager to tell Danny everything she knew. However, she also enjoyed teasing him. His attempts to appear nonchalant had not fooled her one iota. She had quickly discerned his interest in the girl, and was determined to torture him for as long as she could.

"Her father owns a chain of stores on the mainland. Parents were divorced when she was young.. She's been to all the best schools, done the world tour You know, all the things the disgustingly wealthy people do" 

"Allison." He kept his voice low, but the urgency of his tone was unmistakable. "WHO IS SHE? WHAT IS HER NAME?" 

"Oh, sorry. I didn't realize!" Allison teased. " You want to know her name? Jane Michaels. She's been doing a lot of volunteer work with Hawaii Junior Blind, if you're interested."

Danny certainly was interested. He wanted to know everything there was to know about Jane Michaels.

Jane became aware that she was being observed. She looked around, and her honey colored eyes connected with Danny's blue ones. Disconcerted at being caught watching her with such fascination, Danny blushed furiously. She favored him with a smile before turning her attention, once more, to her companions. 

Danny leaned forward and reached for the empty glasses. "Another drink?" he asked, already halfway to his feet.

John glanced at Danny's own glass, which was still half full. "But you haven't fin--," he began. The words died on his lips as he noticed Danny's thunderstruck expression, and received a sharp kick from his wife, simultaneously. "Oh! Yeah, thanks Dan."

As Danny waited at the bar, for their drinks, he was acutely conscious of Jane Michaels, standing only a few feet away. The thought of her nearness unsettled him. He hadn't felt this jittery since he was thirteen, and madly infatuated with Molly Brown, who sat in front of him in biology class.

Finally, he was served. Balancing the three glasses, carefully, between his two hands, he turned away from the bar.

Engrossed in conversation with her friends, Jane did not realise that he was just behind her, as she took a step back. She backed into him, knocking his arm and dousing him with the contents of all three glasses.

Now it was Jane's turn to blush. Shocked and embarrassed, she attempted to wipe some of the beer from his clothing, with a handful of napkins, as her companions tried, unsuccessfully, to restrain their amusement.

Danny felt as if his brain had turned to cotton wool. For the first time in his life, he was speechless in the presence of a woman. He just stood there, feeling like a fool, unable to think of a single thing to say, as Jane dabbed at him with the napkins, apologizing profusely.

Walter Gregson controlled his laughter for long enough to introduce them.

Danny was able to summon just enough presence of mind to stammer, "Pleased to meet you," as he shook her hand. He gazed into her eyes, spellbound, until a slight tug reminded him that he had not released her hand. Flustered, he immediately dropped it as if it burned him.

He felt damp, sticky, and downright uncomfortable, and he was aware that he smelled like a brewery, but, standing this close to Jane, Danny was elated. Giddy with joy, he wanted this feeling of euphoria to last forever. Eventually, however, he realized that he was intruding on a private gathering. Before he withdrew, he turned to Jane and murmured, urgently, "Have dinner with me?" 

To his delight, she nodded and whispered, "Call me. I'm in the book."

Danny was walking on air, as he made his way back to his table, where Allison and John waited. They had watched the entire incident, and didn't bother to disguise their mirth. 

"Way to go, bruddah!" John exclaimed, choking on his laughter. "You've just started a whole new trend in pick-up moves!"

*

Although he had always been very popular with the opposite sex, Danny had only really been in love once before, and it had ended painfully. He had actually been on the verge of proposing, when Abby realised that she was unable to cope with the pressures associated with marriage to a police officer, and broke off their relationship.

Since then, Danny had never allowed himself to feel deeply about any other woman. As soon as it appeared that the affair was in danger of becoming serious, he gently disentangled himself from the relationship. Somehow he managed to remain friendly with most of his ex-lovers.

As the months passed, Danny gradually came to realise that Jane was not like the other women he had known. He was falling deeply in love with her, and was amazed and delighted to find that she reciprocated his feelings. He **could not **give her up. He would just have to have faith in her ability to cope with the demands of his job.

Danny learned that what Allison had told him was true. Jane's parents had divorced when she was young. Both parents were much too wrapped up in their own lives to concern themselves very much with the emotional needs of their child, and she was shunted off to one boarding school after another. Alternate vacations were spent with each parent, and were regarded as an inconvenience by that parent.

In spite of her parents' neglect, Jane never indulged in self-pity. She felt only gratitude for the many blessings that she felt she had received, and tried, in every way she could, to help others. Hawaii Junior Blind' was only one of many charitable organizations she supported, donating not just money, but also a great deal of her time.

Danny vowed that he would spend the rest of his life making up to her for the way she had been neglected as a child, and proving to her just how much she was loved.

Always discreet about his liaisons, he now became positively secretive, cherishing this new love within himself, nurturing it as if afraid that telling the world about it would somehow jinx things. Not even John and Allison, who were there when they met, knew just how deeply he loved Jane.

The rest of the Five-0' team realized that there was something going on. They would sometimes catch him staring into space with an enigmatic smile hovering on his lips, or a phone call would be quickly terminated if anyone came within earshot, but not even they were aware of the monumental event which had taken place in their friend's life.

***

Danny took a sip of the extremely good French champagne as he glanced gloomily around the room. It seemed to him that in the months since he met Jane, they had spent a lot of time here at the Makaha Inn, attending parties or functions given by one or other of Jane's friends. Today they were here for a wedding rehearsal. Although Danny knew both the bride and groom by sight, he could not recall ever actually speaking to either of them. 

At his side, Jane was deep in conversation with Walter Gregson's wife, Sally. The two women had attended the same exclusive finishing school, and had been friends ever since. Danny wondered what they could possibly have in common. He could not imagine a more unlikely friendship than the one between Jane and Sally. Jane was vibrant, warm and loving, while Sally was cool and aloof. Tall, blonde and aristocratic, she appeared devoid of human emotion.

Sally turned her head, and their eyes met. It was obvious, to Danny, from her glacial stare, that Sally considered him gauche and uncouth and definitely not good enough for Jane. 

Walter standing at Sally's right, raised his arm, as if to place it around Sally's shoulders. Danny wondered if it was merely coincidence that Sally chose that moment to move away from her husband, allowing his arm to drop awkwardly to his side. To Danny, trained in observation, it seemed that she deliberately avoided Walter's touch. Somehow, he could not picture this couple sharing the kind of warm, loving, passionate moments that he shared with Jane. Although Walter tried hard (_too hard?_, Danny wondered) to appear affable and charming and give the impression that their marriage was a strong and loving one, he sensed that there was a gulf between them.

It was rumored that Sally's vast fortune had been a major stimulus for Walter's love for her. Certainly, he had started his own construction business soon after the marriage.

Danny was barely able to mask his distaste, as he looked at the other man. It was very rare for him to dislike anyone without a valid reason, but his aversion to Walter Gregson grew stronger each time they met.

It was the prospect of being likened to Gregson, which prevented him from asking Jane to marry him.

Of course, if he did marry her, there would be gossip. When a cop with a weekly take-home pay of $184.50 married the heiress to the Michaels' fortune, what else **would** people think, than that he had married her for her money?

Danny shuddered. He could not countenance the idea of debasing their love in that way. It would be an insult to Jane, to have people whispering that he had married her for her money, as if she had nothing else to offer a man!

He was roused from his preoccupation by a light tap on the arm. One of the waiters stood at his side, white-faced and trembling.

"Mr. Williams," His voice was almost inaudible, as he leaned over and whispered into Danny's ear. "Could you come with me, please, sir? There's something you should see."

A cold knot of dread formed in Danny's stomach. "Where?" he asked, sharply. He suspected, from the man's demeanor that whatever he wanted him to see would not be pleasant.

"The tennis court, sir."

Danny turned to Jane. "Wait here," he whispered, "I'll try not to be too long!" Briskly, he followed the waiter out of the room.

Two men, dressed in tennis whites, were waiting just outside the door. Their faces were the color of uncooked dough. They both looked as if they would rather be anywhere else than here. When they saw Danny, they began to babble simultaneously, nervously eager to tell their story and be done with it.

Danny held up his hand, to stop them. "I'll take a look first," he said, "Then you can give me your statements. OK?"

They nodded, meekly, and reluctantly followed him towards the tennis courts.

*

Steve McGarrett pulled his black Mercury to a screeching halt behind a fleet of black and white HPD cars and the morgue wagon. In a single fluid movement, he unfastened his seat belt and leaped out of the car, slamming the door behind him. Not bothering to lock it, he ran up the slope to the tennis courts, where Danny waited. HPD and Che Fong's lab boys were already at work, combing the area for evidence.

"Her name's Linda Marsh," Danny told Steve, as he led him over to the covered mound in the middle of court three. "Nice girl." He didn't consider it necessary, at this time, to say that she was also a close friend of the woman he loved.

It appeared that Linda had been strangled. Danny acquainted Steve with the few clues that they had found, so far, and then lifted the sheet to point out one more, horrifying, piece of evidence. On the girl's thigh, in red lipstick, the murderer had scrawled the words of a poem. The two men stared at each other, their eyes filled with the terrible suspicion that this would turn out to be only the first of a series of killings.

After a cursory look around the murder scene, Steve departed, telling Danny that since he knew the people involved, he should handle things at the Makaha. Danny went inside to begin questioning the witnesses, and to attempt to comfort Jane. 

*

Chin Ho and Kono were already inside, taking down names and addresses. Once they had given their statements, the guests were permitted to leave.

Jane was about to leave, as Danny arrived. He took her arm, and gently pulled her aside. She was crying. Her eyes were swollen and puffy, and her mascara was smudged. Danny desperately wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her, but he forced himself to maintain an air of professional detachment, as he questioned her about Linda.

Jane had never seen him on duty' before. When they were together, he was always warm, tender and loving. She was bewildered by this new aspect of him. Danny cringed at the pain and disillusionment in her eyes and voice as she blurted, "How can you be so detached.?"

He tried to subdue his own feelings of hurt at her lack of understanding, as he explained, calmly, "I knew Linda, and I liked Linda, but it's my job to find out who killed her." As he resumed asking questions about the dead girl's social life, he perceived that his relationship with Jane had changed, subtly and irrevocably. Already, his job was beginning to intrude.

*

Danny and Chin Ho were in Steve's office, discussing their progress on the case, when the phone rang. Steve answered it, and turned to Danny, smirking. "There's a Miss Jane Michaels waiting in the outer office, for you."

Danny suddenly remembered that he had agreed to accompany Jane to a charity auction at the Makaha Inn. Aghast, he stammered, "I forgot! A week old lunch date!" Red-faced, he assured his boss, "I'll break it"

Steve watched Danny leave the room, a wry smile playing on his lips. So that was it! Danny was in love! Well, that was OK with him. A little dalliance was fine, as long as he kept his priorities straight, and didn't allow his love life to interfere with his dedication to duty. He shook his head indulgently, and turned his attention, once more, to the photographs of the dead girl. 

*

In the outer office, Jane was waiting patiently. This morning, she was dressed in a pink dress and jacket ensemble, and looked so lovely that Danny caught his breath at the sight of her.

Leading her away from Jenny's ever-alert ears, Danny showered Jane with apologies. He did not need to say that he couldn't go to the auction with her, Jane had already assumed that he would be too busy, and accepted it gracefully.

For a moment, Danny wavered. They had no new leads on the Linda Marsh case, and it did not look as if there was going to be a breakthrough any time soon. At this stage they were merely rechecking all the clues they already had. Linda wasn't going to get any deader, and even cops had to eat. What harm would it do if he took the time to have lunch with Jane? Danny was tempted to go back into Steve's office and tell his boss that was going to lunch, after all.

Then his sense of duty took over. Danny knew that clues that weren't initially obvious sometimes showed up when evidence was rechecked, perhaps for the third, fourth or even the tenth time. He would never forgive himself if another person died because he was out to lunch with his girlfriend instead of checking a statement that contained a vital clue. His sense of priorities told him that right now, re-reading statements was more important than going to a charity auction with Jane. With a slight twinge of disappointment, he took advantage of Jane's forgiving nature, and broke their date, telling himself that the case must take precedence over his social life.

In an effort to atone for his delinquency, he promised to take her to dinner that night.

Jane kissed him, lightly on the mouth, and said that she loved him. He longed to be able to reply that he loved her, too, but he couldn't. The words of love that flowed from his lips so readily when they were alone in the dark, choked him now, in such a public place. Aware that Jenny was watching the scene with a great deal of interest, Danny could manage only an embarrassed smile as Jane left the room.

*

There had been another murder, here at the Makaha Inn. As he trotted through the corridors, Danny wondered, fleetingly, how Jane was coping. It was the second time that she had been on the premises when a murder was committed. He promised himself to look for her, when the opportunity arose, and then his attention turned to the new murder.

The body had been discovered in the accounting office. Danny stopped at the door, and looked inside. His glance rapidly swept around the room. It was obvious, from the state of disarray, that the victim had put up quite a fight. Cheques and cash were strewn over the floor. Chin Ho was kneeling on the floor, gathering up the money.

Che Fong's people were moving around the room, dusting for fingerprints and gathering up anything that might possibly provide them with evidence.

McGarrett was on the phone, brusquely snapping orders to some unfortunate being at HPD.

At last, Danny's eyes came to rest on the victim. Comprehension hit immediately, and hard. He recognized the pink dress, even before he forced himself to look at her face. Unable to withstand the sudden onslaught of grief, which ripped through him, Danny reached out and gripped the doorframe, for support.

"No!" It was just a whisper, but the agonized denial reverberated around the small room.

The body of the woman he loved was sprawled, obscenely, on the floor. Her skirt was raised above her waist, and something was scrawled, in red lipstick, on her thigh.

At the sound of Danny's voice, every pair of eyes in the room turned towards him.

McGarrett hurriedly hung up the phone. Chin Ho scrambled to his feet.

Danny could not bear to look any longer. Using the doorframe as a lever, he pushed himself away. Turning from this horror, fleeing from the curious eyes of the officers on the scene, he began to run.

He could hear footsteps behind him, and knew that McGarrett and Chin Ho were pursuing him, but Danny did not stop. If he slowed down, he would have to face the truth of what he saw in that room.

He ran mindlessly, without direction. He ran as fast as he could, trying to outrun the searing pain and the image of Jane's body. He ran until he was exhausted, and had to stop for breath.

He was on the lawns, near the tennis court. Surprised, he saw Jane running across the grass towards him, smiling tenderly. She was wearing a dress of multicolored chiffon, and, as she held out her arms in readiness for his embrace, it billowed around her, making her look like an exotic butterfly.

With a surge of joy, Danny realized that there had been a mistake. Jane was not dead.

He started to reach out for her, then hesitated. Puzzled, he remembered that Jane had been wearing a **pink** dress that morning. Suddenly, the apparition was gone, and he knew that he had not been mistaken.

His last shred of hope destroyed, he was no longer able to deny the truth. No matter how hard, or fast, he ran, he could not escape the pain. His legs would no longer support him. Sinking to his knees, he lifted his hands to his mouth, in an attempt to muffle the tortured howl that forced its way through his lips.

Danny hardly felt McGarrett and Chin Ho gripping his shoulders, attempting, simultaneously, to give him comfort and to prevent him from collapsing completely.

***

Steve wasn't sure how long he and Chin knelt beside Danny, on the lawn at the Makaha Inn, supporting him as he sobbed out his grief, while Kono prowled in circles around them, shielding them from the curious stares of passers-by.

At last, Danny's sobs subsided, and he was able to compose himself. As if in a trance, he allowed his friends to raise him to his feet. McGarrett steered him to his car and gently pushed him into the passenger seat, where he remained motionless. He seemed incapable of the exertion required to fasten his seat belt, and did not react when Steve reached over and fastened it for him.

Steve could hardly concentrate on the road, as he sped along Kapiolani Boulevard, weaving in and out of the traffic in his anxiety to reach the sanctuary of Danny's apartment as quickly as possible. Danny was like a statue in the passenger seat beside him. He had not moved a muscle since they left the Makaha, and gave no indication that he even heard when Steve spoke to him. Steve was was alarmed by the dull emptiness in his eyes as he gazed unblinkingly into the distance. Danny was so completely disassociated from the world around him that he didn't even flicker an eyelid when Steve avoided a collision with a tour bus by mere inches. 

**_Dammit!_**Steve thought furiously, **_why_**_ didn't Danny tell us about the girl?_ If he had only known how things were between them, he could have found some way of breaking the news, instead of allowing him to find out in such a brutal manner. _For God's sake Danno, _he thought, glancing at the younger man helplessly, _discretion is fine, but why did you have to be so fucking secretive _**_this_**_ time?_

Steve drove into the parking lot outside Danny's apartment block, and parked in the carport that was marked with Danny's apartment number. He climbed out of the car, then walked around and opened the passenger door. 

Danny had not moved. He still stared blindly ahead of him. Danno.' Steve's voice was gentle. We're here, pal. You're home.' When Danny did not react, Steve leaned over and unfastened his seat belt. Taking his arm, he pulled him gently out of the car.

Steve was relieved to discover that though Danny seemed incapable of independent thought, he was able to respond to gentle prompting. He accompanied Steve into the building and up the two flights of stairs to his apartment, as if sleepwalking. At the door they stopped. After a moment's hesitation, Danny reached into his pocket, and retrieved the key. Steve stifled a sigh of relief. Rifling through his friend's pockets seemed too intimate and invasive for his liking. 

Once inside the apartment, Danny seemed to emerge, slightly, from his stupor. Unconsciously following his usual routine, he removed his jacket and tossed it over the back of a chair. He loosened his tie and rolled back his sleeves, before sinking wearily onto the couch.

Steve disappeared behind the bar, where he began rattling bottles and glasses. A few seconds later, he emerged with a whisky glass, half filled with dark fluid, which he placed into Danny's hand.

*

Danny stared listlessly at the glass of bourbon in his hand, unable to summon enough energy to lift it to his lips.

He realised that Steve was still here, sitting opposite him. He saw Steve's mouth working, and heard the steady drone of his voice, but the words did not make sense to him. They were just noise.

Then, in spite of the numbness of his mind, he recognized some words which roused him from his inertia. Steve was telling him to take some time off, to relax, get some rest. _No! _His mind screamed at him. _You mustn't do that! Keep busy! Don't give yourself time to think!_

Danny forced himself to speak. In a voice that seemed to come from far away, he tried to reassure Steve. "I'm alright" 

"Sure you are!" McGarrett tried to sound soothing, instead, his scepticism was audible.

Danny looked at him, sharply. He stood up and walked over to stand beside McGarrett's chair. "Steve. You're not putting me on the beach?" It was part denial, part question and wholly appeal.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow, Danno!" Steve's tone told Danny that he did not consider him capable of rational discussion, right now.

"Let's talk about it now! I have to work on this case!" Danny insisted, desperately, but Steve would not be drawn. 

"Tomorrow, Danno!" His voice was quiet, but firm. He made his way to the door, telling Danny, once more, to get some rest. Then he was gone. Danny was alone with his grief.

The door had barely closed behind Steve, before the phone began to ring. 

The first caller was Allison Lawrence tearfully telling him how sorry she was. Her voice muffled by weeping, she asked if there was anything she could do, and did he want her to come over? Calmly, in a voice that sounded strange, even to his own ears, he thanked her for her condolences, and said that no, there was nothing he needed. There was no need for her to come. He was just going to bed.

After the thirteenth call, he left the phone off the hook.

Wearily, he made his way to the bedroom. He did not bother to turn on the light. Too exhausted to undress, or pull back the covers, he lay down on the bed, fully clothed. Staring into the darkness, he waited in vain for the respite that sleep would give.

*

Chin Ho looked on as Danny questioned the artist, Pete King. He was finding it difficult to conceal his anxiety and disapproval. The frown lines on his forehead were etched a little deeper than usual, and his eyes were bright with concern. 

He'd been watching Danny closely for the past few days, ever since he had persuaded McGarrett to allow him remain on the case. Though it would never have occurred to Chin to contradict his boss, he felt that McGarrett had made a serious blunder this time. 

Danny had arrived at work early, the day after Jane's murder. His eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed from lack of sleep, but he seemed in control. He was already working on the case when Steve arrived. 

McGarrett did a double take, at this flagrant disobedience. "I thought I told you to relax and take some time off?"

"And do what?" Danny yelled, defiantly, "Listen to the clock tick? I have to be in on this case!" 

His voice softened. "Please" he begged, "If I don't work on it, it's gonna work on me!"

It must have been this last plaintive appeal which had effect. Steve allowed Danny to continue on the case.

Chin had been a cop for over twenty years; he'd seen it too often before not to see that Danny was using work as a shield against his pain, believing that if he kept busy, and treated this case just like any other, he could avoid thinking about his loss. Chin also knew that it would not work. Sooner or later, Danny was going to have to face up to his grief, and deal with it.

So far, Danny had kept himself rigidly under control, but since they had been in King's apartment, he had become increasingly twitchy. Chin was afraid that he had reached breaking point.

Danny was convinced that Pete King had murdered Jane. The young artist had a job in the kitchens at the Makaha Inn, washing dishes. He knew his way around. It would have been easy for him to slip away to the tennis courts or accounting office, without arousing suspicion. The kitchen hands at the Makaha used blue plastic kitchen gloves, and a shred of blue plastic had been found under Linda Marsh's fingernails.

Even more damning, in Danny's opinion, was the discovery that each month, for the past three months, Jane had paid Pete King the sum of one hundred dollars.

His mind whirled. Why had Jane never mentioned Pete King? Why did she pay him three hundred dollars? The suspicion crept, unbidden, into his mind: blackmail? He rejected it immediately. What could Jane have done to merit blackmail?

The other thought was equally repugnant. Danny could not believe that anyone as fastidious as Jane could be attracted to the gaunt creature with lank hair and pock marked face who stood before him, but still the question gnawed at his guts: was she having some kind of relationship with this man?

Danny had believed that he knew everything there was to know about Jane, and now he discovered that there were things that she had not told him. He felt betrayed.

Aware that Chin Ho and Kono were watching him anxiously, Danny tried to keep his voice level, as he demanded to know why Jane had given money to this man.

Pete glared back at him defiantly, and replied that Jane had given him the money because she knew that she was a struggling artist, and she wanted to help him.

He denied Danny's accusation that he had killed Jane because she stopped paying him, with the assertion that: We had a good relationship'

What does that mean?' Danny's voice was sharp.

Misunderstanding his reaction, King sneered, Not like that, don't make it dirty! She's dead. Don't smear mud on her!'

At last, Danny's self control shattered. With a scream of rage and grief, he hurled himself upon the young artist, and knocked him to the ground. Sitting astride the man's scrawny body, with tears streaming down his cheeks, he pounded him, mercilessly with his fists. His fury gave him strength, and he continued to rain blows onto King's head, shoulders and body, not caring where they landed, as he struggled against Chin's and Kono's attempts to pull him off. 

At last, they managed to drag him away from Pete King, who was, by this time, unconscious. Chin Ho sat on the floor with his arms around his sobbing friend, while Kono called for an ambulance.

*

Apprehensively, Danny entered McGarrett's office and approached the desk. 

McGarrett had his back to him, and was ostensibly, gazing out of the window. He did not bother to turn around when Danny spoke.

"Pete King is innocent."

"How do you know?" McGarrett's voice was neutral

. 

Danny had been expecting a tongue-lashing over the events at Pete King's apartment, and was bewildered by Steve's apparent indifference.

He explained that at the time of Jane's murder, King was being chastised by the cook for sketching while he should have been working. There were several witnesses.

Carefully, Danny laid a sheet of paper on McGarrett's desk. His hands were swollen and bruised, the knuckles raw and bloody. 

Steve picked up the sheet, and glanced at the words, written in Danny's handwriting. He tossed it back onto the desk.

"I don't want your resignation, Danno". Again, his voice was flat, with no hint of either compassion **or** condemnation.

"Steve," Danny's own voice was thick with remorse, "I almost killed that kid!" He had not believed himself capable of that kind of violence. The discovery that he had the capacity for such savagery had left him shaken and terrified. 

McGarrett nodded. "But you don't get to resign" 

At last, McGarrett looked directly at him. Danny was surprised to see a glimmer of compassion in the depths of the older man's eyes, as he told Danny to take some time off. Though he spoke gently, Danny knew that it was an order, and, this time, McGarrett would not tolerate disobedience.

***

Danny was not surprised, when the morning of Jane's funeral dawned with leaden skies and the promise of rain. It seemed appropriate that such an occasion should be accompanied by dismal weather.

He could not bear to watch, as they lowered Jane's casket into her grave. Instead, he studied the other mourners. 

Alone in his apartment, the night Jane died, Danny was barely conscious of what he was doing, as he picked up the telephone and dialled the New York number of his aunt, Clara Williams. He merely knew that she was all the family he had, and he needed her. Clara had responded to Danny's almost incoherent midnight phone call by booking a seat on the next flight to Honolulu. She stood beside him now, with her hand on his arm. From time to time, she gave a reassuring squeeze. Looking down into her lined, compassionate face, Danny saw the affection and pity shining in her eyes, and his heart constricted with gratitude.

McGarrett and the rest of the team were there, of course, standing a little apart from the other mourners. They had not known Jane, but were there because Danny needed their support. The grim expressions on their faces stemmed from their horror at the manner of her death rather than from any personal sense of loss. 

Jane's work with Hawaii Junior Blind' had frequently brought her into contact with Allison Lawrence, and their budding friendship was reinforced by Jane's relationship with Danny, whom Allison looked upon as family'. Allison watched mournfully as the coffin was lowered into the grave. Though her eyes were dry, they were swollen and red rimmed. She had obviously wept a great deal. 

Danny's eyes moved on, and connected with those of John Lawrence. He realized that while he had been watching others, John had been watching him. 

John's expression was uncharacteristically stern, and his eyes betrayed his concern as they rested on his friend. Danny wished he could reassure John that he was OK, but he knew that he would be lying. He didn't think he would ever be OK again.

Behind John and Allison, he saw the couple whose wedding rehearsal was interrupted by the discovery of Linda's body. They had postponed their wedding. Instead of getting married, they were attending the funerals of their friends.

Pete King stood on the other side of the grave, his head bowed in prayer. He looked up, saw Danny watching him, and nodded. His swollen, misshapen nose and the mottled bruises on his face testified to the terrible beating he had received. He held himself unusually erect, and moved stiffly, as if any movement caused him pain. Danny marvelled at the generosity of the man. Not only had he declined to press charges against Danny, he had turned up at Danny's apartment and apologised to him for hurting **_him!_**

During that visit, Pete mentioned that Jane had told him that the Jahoor, the poem scrawled on the legs of the victims, was a favourite of Miss Hawthorn'. 

It hadn't taken Danny long to find out that Miss Hawthorn had been a teacher at the finishing school attended by Linda, Jane and Sally Gregson, along with two other guests at the wedding rehearsal. She told him that the five girls, all of whom were neglected by rich parents, had adopted the poem as their theme'. 

After that, events had moved rapidly, yet with agonising slowness, as far as Danny was concerned.

Concentrating on the group which Jane had once referred to as Orphans by Arrangement', McGarrett and the team perused photographs taken at the wedding rehearsal, and discovered that Walter Gregson had been absent for fifteen minutes around the time that Linda was killed.

With Walter established as a suspect, it became obvious that Sally Gregson was the intended victim, all along. Jane and Linda had been killed simply to divert suspicion away from Walter.

A frantic search was begun, for Sally and Walter, and it was Danny who found them, arriving at Hanauma Bay to find Sally fighting for her life, as Walter tried to strangle her.

Standing on the cliff above them, with his gun aimed at Walter, the desire for revenge burned in Danny's soul. His finger twitched on the trigger, and he almost gave in to the temptation to shoot. After all, he had the perfect excuse; he was preventing a murder.

Instinct struggled with duty, and duty won. Reholstering his gun, Danny leaped upon Walter, dragging him away from Sally and pummelling him with a series of savage blows. Ignoring the pain as he reopened the wounds to his hands, only partially healed after his fight with Pete King, he felt an almost orgasmic thrill of satisfaction with each punch he landed on Walter. 

A particularly powerful punch pushed Walter over the cliff, but he was able to hang on by his fingertips. Danny looked at him, dangling from the cliff with hands encased in the blue kitchen gloves he had worn when he murdered Jane, and was dangerously close to letting him fall to his death. 

Then, from behind him, Kono called his name. Danny was jolted back to reality, and his duty. Conquering his rage, he reached down, hauled Gregson up and cuffed him. 

Looking at Sally now, Danny could not help but admire her courage. In the past few weeks, two of her friends best friends had been brutally slain, and she had discovered that her own husband had killed them, as part of a callous, calculated plot to murder her, yet she refused to give any outward sign of her misery. 

Jane's parents stood beside Sally. Mr. Michaels looked tired and grim. His ex-wife dabbed daintily at her eyes with a lace edged handkerchief. Danny had met them at the airport, the day after Jane was murdered, and introduced himself. It had not surprised him that neither of them knew who he was. 

Danny felt no compassion for them, only anger. He wanted to confront them, to demand to know why they hadn't been more attentive and affectionate to their daughter while she was alive, **_why they had been so indifferent to her that they did not even know the name of her lover._**

He didn't do that of course, because he knew that he was as guilty as they were.He had let Jane go, that last morning, without telling her that he loved her. He had accepted her declarations of love, but he had never publicly proclaimed his own feelings. The only times he had been able to tell her how he felt, had been in the dark, with a tongue made eloquent by lust. He had vowed that he would let her know that she was loved, and he had not fulfilled that vow.

As the first few raindrops fell, Jane's parents each stooped to pick up a handful of earth, and tossed it on top of the coffin, before turning away from the grave to walk slowly towards the limousines waiting at the roadside. The other mourners followed their example, and soon only Danny, his aunt and Steve McGarrett remained. McGarrett agreed to Danny's request to escort Clara back to Danny's apartment, and they left him alone at the graveside.

It was raining heavily, by now. Danny knew he should go. The gravediggers were waiting to finish their work. Yet he was reluctant to leave. Unwilling to finally admit that Jane was gone, and he would never see her, or kiss her, or hold her, ever again.

As he tossed a handful of fresh, damp, earth onto the coffin, Danny was tormented by the thought that had obsessed him since Jane was killed: _If only I had gone with her, Jane might be alive now. _

But he had been too busy. Jane had gone to the auction alone, and she had been easy prey for Walter Gregson's twisted scheme. Jane was dead because he had allowed his work to take priority.

Danny took one last look at the casket that contained the woman he loved, and turned away. As he trudged wearily towards the road, and his waiting car, a single thought occupied his mind, one that would haunt him for the rest of his life. 

_I could have prevented this._

PAU

© 2001 Teresa Fogarty


End file.
